In A Land of Myth and a Time of OneShots
by KhaleesiStormborn
Summary: In the midst of the "Golden Effect", this is a counterpart to the story - a bunch of one-shots, prompted by you, my dear readers and myself. Whatever pairing, whatever scene... I accept all!
1. Chapter 1

Hi!

So, I was wondering if you wanted to have a little, I dunno, **challenge: **

A prompt challenge, 'cause I was reading through drabbles and prompt things and they seem fun to do. Tell me if you want to do it! Like, if you have an idea (for example, Merlynn's sick and Arthur has to take care of her, yadda yadda yadda), just message me :)

Or, if you don't, tell me.

I just thought it'd be fun: I'm going to post them all _here. _Sorry about the dorkiness of the name, guys, however. It's 10:30pm and I am tired.

Anyway.

It's to your heart's content!

Here's how it's gonna go, _if _you think this'll be a good idea.

**Tell me your pairing: **it honestly doesn't even have to include _Merlynn. _It could be Gwen/Lance, Percy/Gwaine, Agravaine/Arthur, who cares?

_Oh, little note: it will inclue "Merlynn" not "Merlin" if you want it to include her, because I can't seem to write male Merlin. _

**It doesn't have to even **_**include **_**a pairing: **for example, it could be "Agravaine's thoughts in A Hunter's Heart" or something like that.

**Era: **Canon, AU Canon, AU Modern, Reincarnation, etc.

**Prompt: **what you want to have the one-shot/drabble based around :) It could be a sentence, a word, a little more than that. eg. Soup, or breakfast in bed, or, as mentioned above, Merlynn's sick and Arthur's taking care of her. Or, something like: Gwen being Hunith's daughter, or - ugh, lol, that'd be odd.

**Rating! **;) if you want, there could be a lemon.

**Any object you wish to have particular significance: **Spoons, baskets, etc. Don't have to, though, this is just giving you options.

**Warnings: **Dark! Arthur, Rape, torture, etc.

These don't even have to include the core characters: it could include Uther before the Purge, Hunith, Mordred, Morgause, Kilgharrah, etc.

I think I sound a little desperate, eh? But, I guess I think this'll keep y'all dormant til I figure out what to do for season 5. So... what do you think?

**_Thank you! x_**


	2. Merthur: Body Count

Prompt from _Giselle Pink. _  
>Pairing: MerlynnArthur.  
>Prompt: Arthur and Merlynn are talking about who they'd killed over the years - her's is bigger.<br>Title: Body Count.

Warning: I haven't exactly been exact, because there's been a lot of bandits and wars; which could be _so _many to count, and I went through each chapter, rounded up a number - but I did get the main enemies (the one's with _names). _But, come on, this _is _AU. It's not meant to be completely accurate.

Enjoy :D

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><p>Merlynn was magic.<p>

It took Arthur two weeks to fully wrap his head around it, and now, he was still at a loss. The woman who had been by his side - supposedly saving his life - was a magical creature, a woman that had _magic _running through her veins. The thing his father hated most. Oh, how he would be shouting at him from the heavens because of it. But, he didn't care anymore. He accepted it.

But, he was curious.

Just _how _many people had Merlynn saved his life from?

"Really?" she asked dubiously in response to his own question. "Must you know this Arthur? I mean, will it make you sleep better to know how many people I've killed?"

"Yes," he said with a firm nod.

"Age before beauty," Merlynn stated with a teasing smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes at her behaviour, but began. "The first person I ever killed was a bandit leader and three of his companions - so four. Then there was the druid camp, which I guess," he swallowed the lump in his throat from the thought, "was about thirteen."

"By your own weapon?" she questioned, but he was glad that her eyes held no judgement. He nodded guiltily. She didn't prod at him. "Go on."

"I'm not sure how many bandits and soldiers I've killed over the years - I guess about thirty men and women." Arthur soon realised how high the body count was by his own hand, which was increasingly adding to his guilt. He did the math; sixty two people. "So, you're turn."

Merlynn gulped a bit. She wasn't sure she could count the number of people she'd killed. "Well, there was that woman - Mary - who tried to kill you with that dagger, when I first became your servant." Her eyes lowered to her hands. They faced each other in his bedchamber, seated cross-legged on his bed together. Merlynn didn't want him to judge her for all the people she had killed in her lifetime - all for _him. _

"That was _you?" _

"Yeah, how else were you going to avoid that dagger?" she raised a brow in his direction.

Arthur scoffed. "You saved me, even though you hated me."

"It's my destiny to constantly be saving your prat-tish arse," Merlynn told him. "You would be long dead by now if it weren't for me. _Anyway, _technically I gave you the access to kill Valient, but I gave that kill to you. So, one by now."

"Ha. You've got nothing on me."

"Please, I've barely even started!" She couldn't believe that they were teasing each other about the bloodshed they had committed in their lives, but was a bit glad because of it. She was finally able to _really _open up to him, and this was something that she hadn't even told Gwen, or Lancelot. "I killed that girl, Sophia, and her father when they tried to sacrifice you to the Sidhe." Arthur rolled his eyes. "I killed that _idiot _Cedric."

"Who?"

"You know that servant you acquired and he tried to take my place and then the gargoyles turned to life and tried to kill you because you're a clotpole who doesn't listen to me?" she rambled, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the headboard.

He smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Yeah - oops. How did you kill him?"

"He - he got possessed by a stone that was found in Cornelius Sigan's tomb, and tried to kill you - like everyone else does. Um, he then tried to convince me that I should get revenge on you for how horribly you treated me - to have you 'kneel at my feet', was his words. He thought that we would rule the whole of Camelot, perhaps all the kingdoms, together. I killed him, absorbed the soul of Sigan, and put it back in the stone," she told him simply with a shrug. Merlynn finally noticed her king's expression.

He looked gobsmacked. Truly, and utterly gobsmacked. His mouth gaped open, his eyes the size of saucers. "This is what you do when I'm not around, huh?" he joked with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah," she ran her hand over her hair with a grimace.

"How do I never notice these things?" he exclaimed.

Merlynn shrugged. "Because you're oblivious, my king. Does me cheating a little to help you win count as my murder points?"He considered it for a moment, then shook his head; she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Because then I'd have about twenty extra under my belt." He frowned slightly - that was a bruise to his ego. Then, she didn't stop. Arthur barely heard half the nonsense and names that was spilling from her lips; he didn't even try. She took a deep breath, and stopped. _Finally. _"Seventy-six."

"_Seventy six?" _he echoed in shock.

"Mhm. Give or take a few. I lost count on most of the bandits and the soldiers," she laughed.

"Wow. You're quite a -"

"Murderer?" Merlynn guessed. "That's what I am. Half the time I'm protecting _you, _though, and trying not to get sliced to bits. So, I guess there were good intentions behind them - as were yours."

"I just can't believe you _beat _me!"

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><p><em>So, this is the first one-shot. What did you all think? :) This will be updated whenever I have a concrete one-shot written up, so it could go from one to five days. <em>


	3. Merwaine: Dreaming

Prompt by _Princess Falling Star. _  
>Title: Dreaming.<br>Prompt: Gwaine being enchanted into a deep sleep and is unable to wake up because he dreaming of a life with Merlynn and he needs to want to wake up.  
>Rating: T.<p>

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><p>"Gwaine," a voice whispered, soothing and warm. "Wake up."<p>

His eyes opened to come in contact with cerulean orbs and a wide, loving smile. Gwaine was a bit confused to see that it was Merlynn who joined him in - what looked like - his bedchambers, and in his bed, too.

"What're you doing here? I thought you'd be with Arthur," he asked with a frown.

Merlynn rolled her eyes and reclined next to him on the bed, facing him. He turned toward the servant, curious and still a bit baffled; then, he realised. She wasn't wearing any clothes beneath the sheets that covered her form to her chest. His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything.

"He said I could start a little later this morning, because I was complaining to no end yesterday - it gave me a chance to spend time with you," she chuckled, leaning over to kiss his stubbled cheek.

"Why are you naked?" his question was blunt. Was she _playing _with him? Or did she wish to cheat on Arthur? Merlynn wasn't the type of person to do that - or was she? He had no clue.

Her smile turned wicked. "I didn't think you were _that _drunk last night, Gwaine."

They had slept together? - and he'd _forgotten. _

"But, what - what about Arthur?"

"What do you _mean _'what about Arthur'?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"You and him are together, right? What happened?"

Merlynn burst out laughing. "What? Me and Arthur? Together? Have you _lost _your mind, Gwaine? The only person I've ever been with is you, and you know that!"

He must have been dreaming. Gwaine had these dreams more often than not, as sad as it was - but this one, it was different. Merlynn felt so _real; _the dream was more real than any other he'd ever had. She smelt like the forest, and snowberries, and her hair was soft to the touch like silk. Everything felt real. It was like his dream turned into reality, and he never wanted it to end. So, taking advantage of it, he grasped her by the back of the neck, tangling his fingers through her dark curls, and tugged her close into a passionate embrace. She released a small moan, her body rolling so she straddled his waist. He could feel her naked above him, her soft, warm skin touching his, fingers delving into his jaw.

"You're certainly excited this morning," she rasped as she pulled back from the kiss to breathe.

"Uh huh. Now c'mere," he forcefully crashed his lips to hers, his hands moving to her hips, anchoring them.

Merlynn released herself again, forehead leaning against his. "Keep doing that, and we'll never leave."

"Now when has that been a bad thing?" he teased, running his lips, teeth and tongue across her jaw and neck. He attached his mouth to her clavicle, nipping it gently. He heard her gasp, felt her hips buck against him. Gwaine groaned, his strong arms capturing her body to his; he never wanted the feeling to end, to have this moment remain as it was for the rest of his life. He'd be happy.

"Yo - you have training," her lips touched his hair, "and I have to wake Arthur up."

His arms tightened around her for a moment. The mention of the king ruined the moment; it meant that Arthur and Merlynn could still be possible, and this was _his _dream. "No," he said stubbornly. "Can't you just walk with me down to the training grounds? Get another servant to wake the king up?" Coincidentally, Arthur was one of his close friends - which was something that had come to a surprise to the both of them - but he was jealous.

She forced him back away from her, but still sat on his lap. "Gwaine, what is with you today? Are you jealous of Arthur, or something?" He buried his face in her neck instead of answering, breathing in her scent. "You have to realise that there is _nothing _between Arthur and I - we're just friends."

"Very close friends," he muttered.

"We've been through a lot," she shrugged. "You're not the jealous type, Gwaine." Then, she smiled in a way that made him harden even more. "But gods does it look attractive on you." Her lips molded to his for a quick, heated moment, before she departed from him completely.

There she stood, bare before him. Of course Gwaine imagined it more than once, but it never ceased to make his mouth go dry. She was - gods, _so beautiful. _Pale skin all over, which became flushed after certain activities and when she was mad, and curves that suited her. Sometimes he thought her too thin (once he had a dream that he was feeding her the finest foods in the whole five kingdoms) but she still had womanly hips and breasts, toned, thick thighs... he could stare at her all day. Merlynn smirked, knowing what he was thinking.

"I'll see you down at the training grounds, then?" she winked, pulled on her clothes quickly and hurried out.

**[][][][][][]**

He never wanted the dream to end. _That _was definite. Everything seemed brighter, more beautiful than before. Gwaine dressed and made his way toward the training grounds through the Lower Town - everyone was the same, except for one thing. Merlynn was _his - _not Arthur's, his. He saw his closest friends all standing together by the fence of the first training field, and grinned at the sight of them.

"Hello, brothers," he greeted, clapping Percival's shoulder.

"Never thought you'd get out of bed, mate. You were taking forever; thank god Arthur decided to sleep in, too," Elyan chuckled.

"Almost didn't get out of bed. Merlynn forced me."

Lancelot groaned. "I don't need to know that you two - ugh." It seemed that even in his dream, Lancelot still felt the same way about Merlynn, which furthered the idea that he was just in another reality - an alternate, _better _reality.

"Morning, men!" Arthur exclaimed, followed by his servant, who carried his weapons in her dainty hands. "Sorry for being late. I had a late night."

"It took forever to wake him up," Merlynn commented with a roll of her eyes.

He shot her a glare and snatched the sword from her fingers. "Shut up, Merlynn." She poked her tongue out at him, then sent Gwaine a wink.

Gwaine felt like jumping up and down and shouting with how happy he was; Merlynn and Arthur were not together, while he and Merlynn were. Everything was the same, except for that little piece of information. When training was over, she hurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning up to give him a small kiss. Then, together, the two made their way into the tavern to drink with the other men. She sat on his lap and they acted like they did in reality, teasing and joking around, but she cuddled up against him and kissed his jaw every so often.

"Get a room, for god's sake," Leon complained.

Merlynn chuckled. "If you don't like it, don't watch," she retorted.

"That's my girl," Gwaine kissed the back of her head.

[][][][][][]

Bandits were terrorizing the outlining villages in Camelot, so Arthur set out with the knights and Merlynn to find, capture and finish them. Gwaine could admit that he liked stopping savages such as them, but now he had reason to - he was a knight of Camelot. They found them quickly, and set out on their battle to stop them. He dispatched four quickly with ease, then set off to finish off another. But, he realised that they were in over their heads. More seemed to pile in from left and right, with larger weapons and stronger statures than before.

It had been a trap.

Gwaine wanted the dream to end now. He didn't feel like dying in his dream, even though he was confident that he wouldn't. He turned to see a large bandit approach his king from behind while Arthur fought off two men simultaneously. Before he could do anything, Merlynn swooped in with surprising skill. The man was twice her size but she was fast, and used her broadsword well - she defeated him, then moved on to the next man. Neither of them saw it coming.

A bandit with a short blade came up behind her, took her by the waist and, before his eyes, sliced across her throat.

Everything froze.

The bandits disappeared, as did his comrades. It was just his dying love, and the merciless forest. Gwaine dropped to his knees beside her and cradled Merlynn in his arms; the familiar burning sting of tears appeared in his eyes, and he didn't try and force it back. He shakily touched her throat, which still oozed the sticky red liquid that kept her alive. Nothing could save her, both of them knew that. The blood trickled from her pale lips as she choked on it - the knife dug so deep into her throat it would not allow her to talk. Her pale fingers clasped tight onto his arms.

"I'm sorry," he rasped out. "I - I didn't want this. This wasn't supposed to happen. I love you, Merlynn. I'm sorry."

He felt her body slump as it was depraved of life, felt her fingers loosen and fall from his arm. Gwaine only pulled her closer, ignoring the blood that covered his body. He was alone in the forest now.

Would the dream end?

[][][][][][]

"Gwaine," it wasn't Merlynn, that was for sure. He slowly opened his eyes and came in contact with Gaius' kind ones. "You're awake. That's good. We thought we'd lost you."

"Ugh," he groaned out, clutching at his head. It sparked suddenly in pain. "My _head." _

"Yes, you will be feeling a bit of trauma in that area for a little while, but you will be fine."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Merlynn told me that you just suddenly collapsed in the training grounds, and Percival carried you here," Gaius told him.

That was embarrassing. At the thought of the servant, however, he sat up straighter without regard for his head. The dream repeated in his mind; the blade slicing across her vulnerable throat, the blood gushing almost immediately, the light leaving her eyes... Gwaine pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes in an attempt to rid his brain of the images.

"Gwaine? Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

"I - I'll be fine. How long have I been out?"

"Two days."

"When can I leave?"

"In a few hours. I just want to make sure that you'll be fine. You can wander around the room if you want, but I don't think it's best if you leave just yet," Gaius said.

"Okay. Thank you, Gaius."

Two hours later, there was a visitor. It was Merlynn; she looked exactly the same as she had in his dream, except now he knew she wasn't his - she'd never truly be his. He swallowed thickly, and felt the urge to bring her tight into his arms again. Her blue eyes came in contact with his, and a large smile appeared on her face.

"Gwaine!" she rushed over to him and drew him into a hug. He relished in it, returning the embrace with a tight squeeze. "I was so worried about you! I - I didn't think you were gonna wake up for a little while."

"Me neither," he agreed, and kissed her forehead. "But I'm here, princess, and I'm not gonna leave."

"Good. The knights were worried sick, too. They kept wanting to visit but Gaius wouldn't allow it because they're to rowdy," she chuckled.

Gwaine released her and sent a crooked smile her way. He would have to live with this reality; it would hurt time to time, but he would prefer it if she was his best friend than her to die after a short relationship between them. It was much better this way.

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><p>What did ya think? :)<p> 


	4. Mordred: Obsession

Prompt by _Giselle Pink._  
>Pairing: one-sided!MordredMerlynn.  
>Prompt: Mordred is obsessed with Merlynn. The real reason why he wants to kill the king.<p>

Warning: Mordred gets a bit...weird. Like, Edward Cullen weird.

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><p>The scene ran through his head over and over like a song.<p>

He was hiding from the Camelot guards, who had taken his master in to the city to be murdered for his 'crimes'. Mordred _felt _her. Such strength and beauty, her magic crackled and glowed bright like the stars; for a single moment, their magic connected, became interwoven with each other. And she'd helped him.

His _Emrys. _

Taken care of him, with that caring expression and kind, blue eyes. He still remembered how she smelt; like the forest, spring flowers in bloom and something indescribable that he, once or twice, even as a boy, loved to breathe in. She was so warm and comforting, with her arms wrapped around him protectively. Mordred thought of her often - he laughed at that. She never left his mind, not once. For so many years, she had been the centre of his thoughts and he couldn't get rid of her.

He didn't want to.

That was why he invested in Morgana's assistance in helping him take down _Prince Arthur - _she had been manipulated, turned cold with her magic and her hatred for the king (which he used to his advantage). He thought of Morgana as a dear help, and someone who could stand by his side to battle the Pendragon army, useful. But, she was disposable. It was all for one purpose - to get Merlynn.

He wanted her. He'd always wanted her, ever since he spoke to her through their minds. Merlynn felt their connection, too; he could tell. Just by the way she _looked _at him when they first met, with such empathy and compassion and _care. _Everytime he saw her, from that moment on, they were - it was indescribable. His obsession for her grew to a point of madness. He found himself watching her, under a spell that Cerdan once taught him; invisibility. She would walk past him and not even _feel _him there; he wanted to reach out and touch her so bad that it made his fingers ache.

But one day, he saw _it. _Mordred had still been a boy, before he'd met Alvarr, and he was watching her again.

_Merlynn had been reading in the large, cushioned chair in her chambers, her hair down - there was a breeze, and he could smell the sweet scent of the dark strands. Mordred had walked over to her, then began to read with her; she was reading about the druids, of all things, and it made him smile. Her, curious about his kind. He was so close - he felt like removing the invisibility and touching her hair, as he did once upon a time, or perhaps her skin. _

_He was only a boy, and had never felt that way about anyone. He was not even sure that a boy his age could feel such things for another, especially someone older than him. But, Mordred was desperately and possessively in love with Merlynn. As he watched her, the door to the chamber opened, and he heard a laugh. _

_"Oh, hello there," he glanced up to see Arthur Pendragon standing there with a smile on his face. He didn't have a problem with Arthur; he saved him, so there was no ill feelings for the Pendragon son. _

_Merlynn had looked up and smiled in such a way that it made _his_ heart skip a beat._ "_And what are _you _doing here? Don't you have training, or something?" _

_"I do, but I realised that my servant wasn't there, and I began to wonder: where in the bloody hell is she? I checked the tavern, and you weren't there, so I came here," he said, strolling closer to her. He now loomed over her. _

_Mordred wished to do that; to be older, taller - perhaps she would want him_ more_. However, he was patient enough and content to wait until he was of age to claim her as his own, despite his intent need to be with her always. _

_"Oh, poor Arthur. How can you _live _without a servant there to keep you upright? Lord knows what could happen if you had to put on your armor yourself," she replied sarcastically. __The little boy giggled, knowing that they couldn't hear him. The woman he loved had cheek; he liked it. Cerdan would've liked her, too. _

_"Mm. Come on. You have to help me," he pouted. Merlynn rolled her eyes, leafed the book, and got to her feet. Then, before Mordred's eyes, locked her arms around his neck and kissed him. Arthur made an odd noise and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. _

_Mordred felt his eyes well up with angry tears - he felt betrayed by her. How_ could _she do this? With a prince of all people? She deserved someone better, someone of their kind; someone who understood her. Like he did. He shook with anger, and disappeared. _

That was the day he vowed to kill Arthur Pendragon.

For some, it would seem stupid, but to him - it was a right, a duty to his Emrys. She would see the error of her ways, and he would forgive her without a second thought. They would rule over Camelot together if she wanted. But, if she didn't, then they could escape. He would take her anywhere - to the beaches up north, where the sand was the color of snow, or perhaps far east, where his homeland was. They could build a new life.

All he needed to do was be rid of that _Pendragon. _

Mordred still watched over his Emrys. When his craving for her became too much. He was older now, taller, but lean. Would she recognize him? He hoped so. But, he wanted _her _to forgive him too, for getting her injured. Alvarr's lover had hurt her and he'd been all too proud when watching from the trees as she decapitated the woman. And there was also the matter of what he had said to her - of course he would never forget it, but perhaps it was not her fault. She thought that she was fighting for what was right. He just wanted to make her see that killing Arthur was the _only _way.

He sat idly by, watching as they furthered their relationship. He also watched Morgana. As much as he did care somewhat for the other witch, she had hurt Merlynn; if they were to _ever _ally together, he would have to have a talk about _that. _

Many times he wished to comfort her. Merlynn cried more than she ever should; she cried about many things - things that she had done, what would happen, and the constant inner pain she felt, not unlike his own. He felt her agony, and sat with her on her bed as she sobbed into her pillow, trying to be quiet as to not awake Gaius - this was when she _didn't _sleep in Arthur's room. Once, he dropped the barrior, after she had killed the king. Pure accidental, of course. He couldn't blame her for not realizing the enchantment that had been placed over Uther by Agravaine and Morgana.

_She faded off, hands clutching desperately into her pillow. The tears hadn't subsided yet. Mordred touched her wet cheek softly, hoping that, soon, she would stop her crying. He didn't like seeing her cry. He leaned his lips down to her ear and kissed it softly. _

_"Please stop crying," he whispered to her. He felt the invisible charm disappear. "Please, Emrys." _

_Mordred made a split decision, and slid into the bed beside her. His body stretched down the length of hers, chest-to-back. He touched his fingers to her hip, his chin finding her shoulder. She made a noise and, before he could speak, rolled around in her small bed and faced him in her slumber. Her face was now pressed to his torso, her hand flat against his stomach. He couldn't breathe. _

_She would wake, soon, he knew it. It couldn't start like this; not like this. __Suddenly, she frowned, hooked her nails slightly and rose her head. __Mordred quickly disappeared before she discovered that he had been in her chamber alongside her. _

He hadn't meant to. That went too far, that night. He knew. But for so long he was in love with her, much longer than _Arthur, _who didn't deserve anything at all - his crown, _her _love, the people. He deserved to die. Not only because of his capture of his Emrys, but because, in the end, Arthur Pendragon was always meant to die by his hand. It was there, hanging over the edge, and the key was the one person he desired after most.

Once he had her in his grasp, Arthur would be powerless, hopeless, and then Mordred would strike.

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><p><strong>Okay, so this is the third one. I've been wanting to do something like this for a while, and was already planning on doing it, but then Giselle Pink sent me the idea and I finally wrote it. So, what did you think? <strong>


	5. Merthur: Overprotective

Hi, isn't it a lovely day? Full of magic...and wonder? Sorry, I'm just so aakdwhfergljwehfelfjsafg today because I finally got One Direction tickets for their 2013 tour! OMFG :D I just was so excited and I thought I would upload this - I'm not very proud of it, but oh well! Tell me what you think. I didn't get the best seats but, again, I don't care because I'm going *woop woop*

I couldn't find the author who sent me the prompt :/ but thank you. I think the prompt was:

- _Merlynn is pregnant, and Arthur and the knights are extremely protective. _

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><p>She felt like a turnip. A disgusting, bloated turnip.<p>

Merlynn touched her very-pregnant stomach and pursed her lips in irritation. She felt like a bird - albeit, a very fat bird - who was locked inside a cage. The cage was a metaphor for the castle. Since discovering that she would soon be giving birth to the next heir to the Pendragon throne, Arthur had become much more protective. She was rarely allowed out of the castle now; the furthest she had gone was to the Lower Town, but she was surrounded by the knights.

They were also _extremely _protective of her - a bit too over-protective.

She was restless, angry: all she wanted to do was escape, if only for ten minutes. Pick flowers, go collect some berries. It was what she liked doing whenever she wasn't being Gaius' assistant and Arthur's servant. Now, even though she was free of both commitments, she was forced under a new law. As Queen of the realm, she had new duties, responsibilites, and now she was _pregnant._

Her magic was becoming more and more out-of-control with her hormones, too, which added to her frustration. Already she had almost revealed her magic to three handmaids when they told her that she had to try on six different dresses. Gwen got them out quick enough before the vases in the bedchamber shattered to pieces.

All she wanted was to _do _something, other than sit around and read all day.

No longer was she the mother-hen of the clan; she had six _men _who had taken over that occupation seven months ago.

"Can't I just - I don't know - go to the bakery and get some sweet-rolls?" she begged her husband, who was preparing to train with the knights for their daily session.

"Something could happen, someone could bump into you and injure the baby," he told her condescendingly, tying his belt. Even she wasn't allowed to dress him in fear of 'harming the child inside her womb'.

Merlynn sighed irritably and crossed her arms over her chest, forearms resting comfortably on the bulge protruding from the silk folds of her gown. "Ugh - you, Arthur Pendragon, are insufferable."

"And you, Merlynn Pendragon, are reckless," he retorted.

"How can I be reckless if I can't bloody leave the castle? All I've basically done for seven months is sit around like a potato and look outside my window. The closest I've gotten to civilization is walk to the bridge and back. Even then I'm not alone; I've got five men surrounding me like someone's going to try and kill me. Nothing will happen!" she cried.

Arthur turned and captured her jaw in his hands. "We still have enemies, Merlynn, and they have allies. Who knows who they are, and if they have access to the castle? I can't risk you, or the child, being hurt," he said, kissing her unwilling lips. Her eyes flashed gold momentarily, and he was shoved away from her. He pouted. "You don't have to get mad at me for trying to protect you."

She slapped at his arm. "Oh, I was _mad _when you took away my privillages to being alone," she hissed. "I was _mad _when I'm no longer allowed to grab my own books because it 'strains my body too much'. Now, I'm _seething." _She took his chainmail between her fingers and tugged him close, glaring up at him. "You let me leave this room or I will cause you unbelievable pain."

He was actually beginning to get a bit terrified by the look in her eyes, and the expression on her face. Slowly, he pulled away from her and nodded reluctantly. "You can come down to the training grounds with me, but you are not to be out of my _sight. _Clear?"

"Better than nothing, I suppose," she shrugged.

Merlynn grabbed the current book she was reading (she had read one hundred and seventy books in seven months due to her boredom - this was the one-hundred and seventy first) and basically ran out the door after her lord husband. She felt the sun beam down upon her cheek as she wandered beside the over-protective Arthur through the Lower Town toward the training grounds. He kept a firm arm around her waist as they smiled and greeted the people, but she couldn't care. All she cared about was the fact that she was _out _of the castle, finally. After so long, she was _free. _

Although, she would probably be watched like a hawk there - so, technically, it'd be exactly the same as the last few months. Merlynn let her head fall tiredly down on Arthur's shoulder. She couldn't care about his behaviour, all she focused on was the breeze wafting through her hair, the heat of the sun on her hair, and the faces of the men, women and children of Camelot who all stared and smiled in her direction. When they reached the training grounds, she was the object of all the affection in the world.

Who knew a single woman the size of an overgrown pumpkin would reduce five men - excluding the king - into puddles of goo just by seeing her?

Gwaine reached her first, a large smile on his chisled face, as he gently wrapped his arms around her from the side and playfully rubbed her belly. "How is my niece, or nephew?" he grinned, lingering on the area.

"She's fine," she answered with a roll of her eyes. She was sure that she was to give birth to a daughter. Which, by society's standards, was unacceptable - a woman, as the next heir? And at first, she'd been concerned, but Arthur was only excited to have a child, and that made her happy.

Leon hurried over with a worried, 'mother-like' look on his features. "Did you eat properly today? _Why _are you out in the open like this? Don't you know what danger this could bring?"

"You should be getting rest," Elyan added.

"And a lot of liquids," Percival continued.

Lancelot remained quiet in the back, sharpening his broadsword. He couldn't be too over-protective over her for, while he did the same to Gwen, he knew that Merlynn could handle herself. He simply pushed past the other boys and drew her close, kissing her head softly. "How are you feeling?"

She shoved him away, an angry look on her features. "Stop _smothering _me! For god's sake, I am not a child and I am not fragile! I can't handle myself." Before any of them could say a thing, she stormed off.

Gwaine could only imagine what would happen when Arthur returned from the armoury to find that his pregnant wife had left. So, two of the four (himself and Leon) searched endlessly for her, asking people where they saw her last, but they couldn't find her and returned to the training grounds in preparation to be disembowled. Arthur already looked mad.

"Where's Merlynn?" he demanded.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Arthur, she stormed off. We searched everywhere, but we can't find her."

_They wouldn't, _Lancelot thought to himself. If Merlynn didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be found. No matter what.

"What? What did you do?"

"We were just worried about her," Elyan defended. "She got angry."

"We need to set out a search party."

**[][][][][][]**

It had taken two hours of constant searching before they realized that they couldn't find her - Arthur was sure he had torn half of his hair out because of it. His wife, his only love, his daughter, had disappeared all at once. He looked high and low for her, but he could not find her _anywhere. _His cheeks were stained with tears because of his worry; it was embarrassing, but it was _Merlynn _he was worried about. Arthur finally stopped at the physician's chambers, drained and worried, and made his way inside to see Gaius sitting at his desk like nothing had ever gone wrong.

"Arthur, did you find Merlynn?" he asked.

"No. Do you even _care, _Gaius? She could be hurt, or lost, or -"

Gaius sighed and took his spectacles off. "I will interrupt here. I know you're concerned for the welbeing of your child, and the woman carrying it, but you must understand that you are suffocating her. Even I can see it. Rarely is she able to visit me _here, _under my protection. I haven't properly seen her in months, Arthur. Pregnancy is a beautiful time, if you do not treat that time incorrectly. She is a creature of magic, Arthur, and has a direct bond with nature - she craves to be a part of it again. While she loves to read, even I know that seven months cooped up doing it is too much. If you want to know where she is, check the forest, or the library. She'd be in one of those two places."

"I - I had no idea," he said honestly. Which was true - was he coddling her too much? All he had been thinking about was her safety, and he hadn't realized what he was actually doing to her. "Thanks for telling me, Gaius. I'll go find her."

He went to the library first - or, Hall of Records, as Geoffrey of Monmouth like to proclaim proudly. The old man was sitting at his desk as always, translating a book in a language he was unfamiliar with. He bowed his head in respect. "Ah, my lord. What is it?"

"Have you seen Merlynn anywhere, per chance?"

Geoffrey shook his head regretfully. "No, I'm sorry, my lord. I wish I could help, but I've been here all day - as always. Why? Is something the matter?"

"She appears to have run off," he told him.

"I knew she was a wild one," he commented, more to himself than anything, but it made Arthur's jaw clench and his eyes darken.

Arthur didn't respond, but ran off to the forest in search of the pregnant woman who would send him to an early grave. He had never been so worried about anything in his entire life; he thought his heart would leap from his chest, up his throat and out his mouth it was pounding so hard.

"Merlynn!" he shouted desperately, cupping his hands over his mouth. "_Merlynn!" _He headed deeper into the forest. "Please stop hiding - I've learnt my lesson! Just come out now. You've scared the whole kingdom, Merlynn. This isn't funny."

"What?" her voice was soft, quiet - _tired. _

He turned, his neck cracking painfully; but he didn't care. Because she was _there, _standing before him rubbing at her eyes and looking healthy. Arthur rushed forward and captured her in a harsh kiss, his hands cupping her pregnant belly softly to reassure him that she was okay. She smiled slightly against his lips and tugged back.

"I just wanted to leave for a little while, I swear. I was gonna come back," she told him with a raised brow.

"I knew that, deep down. I was just really worried," he replied sheepishly.

"You're an idiot."


	6. Merthur: Jealousy

_Sorry if it sucks. This is short, and sweet. _

_Prompt is mine, but sort-of unoriginal since it is a little peek of "jealousy". It is not as extensive, or descriptive as my other ones, but I am itching to write _something _and thought that this could sate them for the time-being. _

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><p>Arthur had never considered himself a jealous man. Never one to be envious of another, or unable to admit it to himself, he was surprised to find the emotion well inside of his being most frequently since meeting the curly-haired, blue-eyed servant. He was enamoured by her, and he began to think that perhaps he was <em>always <em>fascinated by her - with the ability to defy him at every turn, to constantly force him to check what he was saying, to _finally _have someone (other than Morgana) to argue with.

He loved their playful fights; it gave him adrenaline, amused him. Secretly, he craved for it. For, not only did he enjoy her company, her expressions were unbelievably adorable and he could not simply stay away. Her ears would go red, her jaw would go slack and then, the best part, her eyes would flash a deep blue in indignation and she would retort with either finesse, or childish wit.

Her eyes, her flesh - so pale, even in the sunlight, her smile and her scent, even the messy tangles of her hair attracted him to her. Imperfections only made her even more perfect, if that could have been possible.

Their relationship was a secret, so with every brush against her, each time a man spoke to her (but she had no idea that they were attempting to woo her, as she was ever oblivious), he could not react - at least, outwardly. But, inside, his blood boiled against his flesh and he strained to hide the rage in his expression. Then she would glance over at him, pull a face or wave, and he would almost melt. She was the only person who was able to do such a thing to him; cause him to act in such a way, in a fashion that no other woman could ever invoke in him.

A servant boy - a petty commoner, with no real future nor goals - brushed her arm and sent her a blinding smile. In response, she did not shy away and instead turned toward him willingly, a smile of her own forming on her lips. Arthur sat up to attention, his eyes never leaving them. They began to talk as if they were old companions, _familiar _and he hated it. It was as though he did not like her to have friends of her own, and instead stay with him forever. The insecure side of him, the small, desperate child who seeked comfort and love had gained it from her, and now he never wanted her to let him go.

"Arthur?" his father prodded at his arm gently, his brow furrowed. "You look... sickly. Perhaps you should go get some rest?"

Arthur blinked out of his jealous-induced stupor and nodded, a tight, false smile on his face, "Yes, father. I am a bit tired. Thank you." He wiped his mouth and pushed out of his chair, then stormed over to the pair.

" - and did you hear that -" the boy was chattering away incessantly, and he would have none of that.

"Merlynn?" he said curtly.

Immediately, the servant ducked his head and trembled beneath the gaze of the prince, the platter in his hands chattering away in the shaky grip. He stammered out a, "my lord", then hurried away before Arthur could respond.

"You didn't have to do that," Merlynn scoffed, but there was clear amusement on her face.

"Let's go. I think I will retire to bed."

"But, you were -" she must have caught the expression on his face, because her eyes widened and she laughed. "Oh...I see."

"What?" he asked, affronted.

Merlynn said nothing, but simply strolled out of the Dining Hall with him at her heels, as though she was the royal and he, a simple servant. When they reached his chambers and the door had snapped shut, she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and murmured against them in a sweet breath, "You don't have to be jealous, Arthur."

"W - what? I - I was _not _jealous. I do not get _jealous," _he coughed slightly to hide the obvious denial in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "The boy was just talking to me."

"Yes, well the boy should know that you are not to be touched," Arthur retorted, hands possessively taking hold of her hips and tugging her close.

"And why is that?" a sly smile appeared, and mischief was apparent in those blue orbs of hers.

His forehead fell against hers. "Because you are mine," he whispered; his voice was a over her, body and soul, unable to be broken. A shudder pulsed through her body as their lips smashed together and all thought was lost.

_She was _his _and he would never let her go. _

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><p><em>Sorry for the sucky-ness of this... sigh. Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of "After the Fall", my new AU fanfic. If not, go read it!<em>


	7. Gwaine: Feelings

**Thank you xXMistressMadHatterXx for this one-shot idea; it gave me insta-inspiration XD. **

**Prompt: Gwaine says Merlynn's name during sex with another woman (the woman mentioned in the last chapter of the Golden Effect) and, after telling Arthur, the two men have a bit of a talk. Angst.**

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><p>The giggling maiden had been his companion over the course of the night. Gwaine wasn't sure why; she was a bland servant, pretty, but was not particularly intelligent... like some other people. But, he wouldn't think about that. The night had been a large one: the wedding of Merlynn and Arthur, a couple that was <em>meant <em>to be together, it seemed. It was wrong of him to want otherwise but it wasn't something he could help, could he? Falling in love with her.

He smiled, almost sadly, as he took the girl to his chambers for the evening. She complied with a blush and a smile; obviously, she was not a virgin for she did not object when he slammed her up against the wall and gathered her skirts. Gwaine started to press kisses to her neck, listening to her moan and squeal her approval of the action. Usually, that would please him (he enjoyed pleasuring women - it was something he was _very _talented at) but it did nothing but made him yearn for something else. Perhaps it was the night, the event of the evening. The woman he loved, the only woman he had ever fallen in love with, had gotten married.

And, there was nothing he could do about that. His mouth became more aggressive, more forceful, as did his hands, tearing at her dress in a hurry to get her into the bed. The maiden - who's name he could not remember - only moaned and arched against his now shirtless chest. Her body was thin, with small breasts and small hips, but warm and soft. He could get _some _sort of pleasure out of it, he reasoned. Sex was something he could do spontaneously without caring about the consequences; maidens, servants, whores, noblewomen... a woman he was attracted to was his type. But now, while this girl was pretty, she was not the person on his mind.

When he slid inside of her, mousy brown hair turned to dark, curly locks and almost-black eyes morphed into the bright blue eyes, so impossibly brilliant and wonderful. Merlynn was the woman on his mind; he came to realize that she would never leave it. She moaned and whispered his name, but it was muffled to his ears. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, the image beneath his closed lids of the new queen splayed on the bed before him instead of a simple maiden. Then, he came to his release soon after her, words leaving his lips that he didn't even understand himself.

"Oh my goodness, that was..." her voice trailed off, eyes widening. "Wait - you - you called me by another name."

"What?" he tried his roguish grin, even though he was secretly confused.

"Yes. Yes, you did," she accused and sat up, lifting up her torn dress to cover her breasts. Then, she gasped. "You - you said the queen's name!"

"No, I didn't," Gwaine protested.

"You said, 'Merlynn'. I heard you. Why would you... do you love her?" the maiden looked slightly angry and shocked.

"N - no!"

"I cannot believe you said the _new queen's _name in the midst of making love to another woman!" She pursed her lips. "That - that is almost treachery!"

"I... I didn't, I don't -" he sighed. "What we were doing wasn't _love making. _One only makes love if you're in love with the woman and, as it turns out, I'm _not _in love with you," Gwaine was getting isolated beneath the accusing eyes of the unnamed maiden.

Tears filled those eyes, and he avoided them in order to not feel guilty. "How - How - How could you _say _that? Many of the girls say that you are one of the most amazing lovers they have ever had, and I get _this? _Just because you're bitter about the queen!" she got to her feet, movements shaky, and scrambled to the door. "You're a bastard, Gwaine - you'll never find happiness, and for that I am glad." And then, she stormed out, leaving him alone.

Gwaine rubbed his hand over his weary face. That was the worst way to possibly go; he was never the type of person to say cruel things to someone, especially a woman, just because. He was generally charming and nice to the female population. He regretted what he had said, but he didn't like how she brought up the whole 'Merlynn' thing. The mention of 'new queen' was just another low blow to his conflicted emotions.

He felt he would get in a lot of trouble for that...

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Arthur was the happiest he had ever been. Recently leaving his wife - oh, how he loved to say _that _- to a bit of a nap, he went to speak with the council for the first time in a long time. Well, whoever was left; Morgana had killed half the council in a fit of rage, so whoever was left would have to do.

"... and _then, _he said the queen's name!" he heard faintly, and noticed two servants walking toward him in the corridor, possibly unaware of him.

"What? When?" the second woman said with a gasp.

"_During _the 'moment'; at first, I didn't believe it. But, when it was over, I knew that was what he said," the brunette responded, almost sounding teary-eyed.

"But... why would he say the queen's name?"

"I think he's in love with her. That's the only explanation, and - oh, you - your grace," she finally noticed his presence and paused, forcing her friend to do the same. She looked like a deer in headlights.

Arthur smiled reassuringly, but his eyes narrowed. He could only guess that _someone, _in the midst of having sex with the maiden, said his wife's name. Which he would admit sent a burst of anger inside of him at the thought of it. "Do not fear, uh -"

"_Sara," _she stammered.

"Who were you talking about?"

"Oh, uh, I do not mean to offend, my lord, or cause anyone any trouble..."

"Go on," he said, forcing the smallest amount of demand in his voice.

"It was Sir Gwaine, my lord!" Sara blurted out, then slapped a hand over her mouth.

Arthur clenched his jaw. Gwaine, though many times he tried to deny it, was in love with Merlynn; he knew it, and he was sure that she felt the same. There was enough issues about their relationship (involving a kiss a few months back, which he strained to forget) and, while he had _tried _to ignore it and remind himself that Merlynn did not feel the same, he had had it. To say her name during sexual relations with another woman was most certainly a statement of his feelings. He would need to have a word with the knight.

"Thank you for telling me that, Sara," he gritted out between his teeth. "You may go attend to your duties."

[][][][][][]

Gwaine sat alone in his chambers. He hadn't left it since the argument with that woman. What was her name? He still didn't know. And, right now, he did not care. He had just embarrassed himself in front of a woman and now, he _did _care. Gwaine was never a man to truly be embarrassed and ashamed, but he was; he said Merlynn's name during sex.

Oh, dear.

Of course, he knew he had _thought _of her once or twice during intimacy, but never had he lost enough control to utter her name in the moment. It was ridiculous, but he knew it was going to come out some time. He just hoped that the woman he was with was stupid enough not to hear it. But, he had to get that woman.

He sighed and wrapped his lips around the mouth of the bottle of mead he stole from the kitchens and took a mighty gulp of it. Gwaine just wanted to forget all the humiliation he felt. There was a knock at his door, but he ignored it. Who knew who it could be? A long list piled through his brain and there were small possibilities that he wanted to avoid. Maybe if he was silent the person would leave. However, luck was against him as the person on the other side of the door continued to bang against it, the knocks increasingly louder.

"Gwaine?" the voice he never wanted to hear for the rest of his life called through the door.

Balls.

"Gwaine?" King Arthur Pendragon called again, his voice calm but Gwaine knew otherwise. "I know you're here. Just let me in. I want to talk; that's all."

Slowly, and unsteadily, Gwaine stumbled to the door. After all, _he couldn't deny his king. _He swung open the door and leaned against the frame for support, his balance teetering with each movement; he could barely keep himself upright with how intoxicated he was. There were at least four Arthur's from what he could see, but he was sure there was a fifth just around the corner. All four Arthur's smiled in unison, then raised a single fist. Five - no, _four - _fists came flying at his face.

An explosion of pain soared in his cheek and jaw, and he was tossed back onto the ground. The bottle was forgotten as he cupped the sore side of his face, crying out from the shock of it. He was drunk, and in pain now - life was terrible for him right now. But, the punch seemed to have knocked him out of his drunk-induced haze for the time being, and he could now only see one very angry king looming over him. He sat up on his elbows and grimaced.

"So, I'm guessing you're mad at me?" he grunted.

"Oh, and why would you assume that," Arthur spat out, taking him by the arm and dragging him up to his feet. Then, he put pressure on his shoulders as he caught them in a fierce grip. "How _dare _you!"

"Listen, Arthur, I'm sorry. It - it just came out," he explained. Gwaine felt guilty from the moment he said it; he truly hadn't meant to say _her _name, of all people.

He glowered daggers at him. "You are just lucky I don't send you to the dungeons for this! Saying my new wife's name - like that! It's just..." fingers dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders and he hissed.

"Arthur, let me go and I'll explain. I promise."

After a moment, the king complied and Gwaine shifted over to his bed. He took a seat, rubbing at his now injured shoulder and cheek. Arthur dragged a chair over to the bed, placing himself across from him to catch this. _This should be interesting, _he thought to himself.

"I never meant to say her name. Never," Gwaine swore. "Arthur, I - I do love her. I know you want to kill me for that, but I just... I can't help it. You don't understand. When I first saw her in that little tavern, the only thing I remember thinking was that she was the oddest, most intriguing thing I ever saw. Then, when we had that battle and she smiled at me amidst that crazy fight, she was beautiful. Truly. From that moment, I was just attracted to her. I mean, who wouldn't be?" He noticed Arthur glaring at him a little. "Hey, I know you don't want to hear it like this, but you asked me to explain."

He was now more sober than he had ever been before. "I flirted with her countless times, and she just countered back with her fiery personality and it just made me like her more. Then I began to genuinely enjoy her company; she was the first person, and the first _woman, _to ever capture my attention and make me want to have a conversation with. She accepted me for who I was, and we just laughed and talked. I dunno about love, but it was surely more than just attraction. I knew she loved you, though. You'd have to be an idiot not to see it - which is half of Camelot, as it looked.I didn't care, though. She was my friend and I cared about her. When I saved her life, I didn't want to leave, but I knew I did... for the time being. Until I returned to save your ass. I did that for her because I knew she would hate herself if you ended up dying. I didn't regret that."

"I hated you," Arthur admitted. "When I saw you to down near the entrance that day. You were so free with her, and I would always have to hide my feelings for her. She would smile and touch your arm and laugh; that would only be really allowed when we were alone. My father would've killed her if he'd known... he'd probably still kill her."

Gwaine rubbed at the back of his neck and continued, "When I left, I slept around a lot. But, for the oddest reason, I always went for a specific girl. With either black hair, or pale skin, or blue eyes... one, the other, or all, it didn't matter. It was my subconscious, I guess. I thought about her most days. Then, she came and found me and told me that there was an adventure to be had - of course I went with her, how could I not? I was jealous, though. Of you. Merlynn was so _willing _to risk everything for you, each and every time. For a while I thought she wasn't real, just my imagination showing me the perfect woman for me. Funny, smart, sarcastic, kind, compassionate... so beautiful. Almost odd looking. Reminded me a bit of an elf for a little."

He smiled a little bit. Arthur had the same thought once upon a time, "Yeah, she does have an elvish quality about her." _Must be her magic, effecting her physical appearance, _he wondered to himself.

"Oddly beautiful. I loved it. It made her different, unique... she was just so lovely, and wonderful, and too good for me. And you," he added as an afterthought. "She's too good for anyone. I wondered why you deserved her - you always insulted her, disregarded her assistance."

"It was because I didn't want her getting hurt!" he defended. "She's been hurt too many times, thrown herself in danger countless times in order to save me and I wanted it to stop. I don't handle anger well. Whenever she comes to my aid, she ends up hurt."

"If she didn't come, you'd be dead," he retorted.

"That's true," he sighed. "I just couldn't win. All I wanted to do was protect her, and she just ignored it. I don't deserve her, but she chose me and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. For you to try and take her from me... it makes me want to kill you."

Gwaine nodded. He understood the king's anger completely; he would've felt the very same. "I shouldn't have been jealous, but I was. I wanted her love for myself. While we were on our way to save you, Arthur," he admitted to his friend, "I told her my feelings." Arthur's nostrils flared.

"You _what?" _he growled.

"I know," he explained hurriedly. "I know. Actually, when I told her she ignored me. Then, when you were asleep after we rescued you, we spoke about it."

"...She never told me."

"I didn't think she would. There was nothing really to tell: I told her that I cared a lot about her, but that I understood her love for you and that I wouldn't get in the way. She would always pick you." Gwaine couldn't believe how much he was opening up to Arthur. But, he felt like he needed to know about his feelings for Merlynn. Maybe then Arthur would understand, and not hold a grudge toward him as much. "Arthur, she reuinted me with my family. I hadn't seen them since I was a boy and she brought me back to them."

"I didn't know much about that, either," Arthur said quietly. Merlynn certainly didn't tell him much.

"Yep. That's when I knew that I really was in love with her. But, I know that she won't be _mine. _I can only dream and wonder. I've tried to ignore it, to hold it back, but it just doesn't seem to die down. She's my friend, Arthur, and I don't want to lose her. She's my _best friend, _and I love her. That's not going to change."

"I know. But... you _said her name, _Gwaine. While with a flighty idiot servant girl who likes to hold grudges and complain. I've spoken to her again since she told me everything, and forced her to keep quiet about it. If she, or anyone else who knows, tells anyone else or makes it get to the queen, then there will be serious consequences. Let's just hope she's not as stupid as she seems, eh?" the king told him with a slight smile.

Gwaine nodded, feeling thankful that Merlynn wouldn't know. "_She _would feel awful if she knew."

"Exactly. She'd hate herself, think it was her fault for making you feel like this," he agreed. "Merlynn would never forgive herself."

"It's not exactly her fault. She's just... _Merlynn." _

"That she is."

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><p><strong>So, xXMistressMadHatterXx, was it what you were expecting? It wasn't what I had <em>planned <em>but it ended up like this and that was the direction I ended up going in. I hope it's not awful or OOC. **

**Read and review x **

** - Khaleesi. **


	8. Merthaine: Fun

_My actual friend requested this, aha. _

_Pairings: Arthur/Merlynn/Gwaine.  
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_Warning: threesome (kinda), lemon, voyeurism... blowjobs, the whole nine yards.  
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_Summary: basically, just smut. I'll make up a summary - while Arthur is at dinner, Merlynn decides to have some fun in his bedchambers and Gwaine's all too willing to comply.  
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_Rated: M.  
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_Sorry. Don't judge me please, and I know that Merlynn's a little OOC in this - maybe, or maybe not? You decide. A girl can be naughty sometimes! Oh, and shuddup at the Merthaine thing - I literally just made it up for the chapter title :/  
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_REVIEW :D  
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><p>He had kissed many girls before but, when he's kissing Merlynn, it is nothing like those other times. Her mouth is warm and soft, yet chapped from her constant nibbling, and her hands are smooth and rough all at the same time, rubbing at his cheek and sliding across his throat. He makes a low noise at the back of his throat as she uses those teeth to gently bite his bottom lip, and he tangles his fingers in her long, inky hair.<p>

They are in the king's bedchambers; why she had began the kiss in there, of all places, it was beyond him. But, he could not stop. He was dizzy and intoxicated and all his senses revolved around her. His fingers slid down to grip her hipbones through her breeches and he squeezed, then pulled her hard against his straining hardness. She gasps, a delightful noise, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Then, her hand palms him through his breeches and he jolts.

He would finish too early, even from that brief touch, if she continued with it. He takes her wrist and presses his open mouth to her pulse, tasting her sweet skin, dark eyes locked on her. She's trembling in his grip and he loves it.

"If you _want, _princess, we can stop," he rasps, but his voice is low and breathy. He wants to _fuck _her, right on the king's bed. The thrill of him walking in any second was enough to make him even harder - he _wants _this, more than he ever wanted anything in his life. Her lips, red and wet and swollen like she's been stung by bees, spread into a devilish grin and he can barely control the noise that escapes him.

"'Tis not proper," she agrees, her teeth biting into her lower lip. "It would be right if we _did _stop - but," her eyes travel to the bed, large and inviting, before returning to him. They are dark and wild and filled with lust, "I _can't." _

Merlynn reaches up and brings her hand behind his neck to drag him down to her level, and then they're kissing again. He could get used to this: their lips, desperate and wanton, pressing against each other, bodies tight and fitted almost perfectly together. He loves this, never wants the moment to end. He doesn't question why she wants him, only that she wants him now and she's so lovely beneath the candlelight.

"Where's Arthur?" he has to ask, before he takes her to the bed. His hands are already on her waist, ready to lift her up and take her to it.

"At dinner - he'll be a while," she breathes against his mouth.

Merlynn lets him shove her onto the bed and she crawls back, propping herself with the king's soft pillows. Even with her breeches and tunic on, she's beautiful; her eyes, so deep and blue, glitter beneath the candlelight like the ocean beneath the moon shine, and he smiles because of it. Gwaine climbs on top of her, then takes her legs in his grip and locks them over his hips so their privates are locked against one another, and begins a slow roll of his hips. She gasps again, back arching off the bed.

"_Gwaine." _

The sound is muffled by his lips which are slammed against hers in a bruising kiss. Seconds later he releases her and trails down with his tongue and teeth to her pale throat. Gwaine sucks and bites, spurred on by the way Merlynn writhes beneath him, not caring if it leaves a bruise or not. A sign of possession - he would grasp at it with desperate fingers. He _wants _people to see. Gwaine only stops when he feels the skin beneath his mouth tear, before he drew blood; he didn't want to hurt her.

He draws back, but Merlynn does not let him go far. She reaches up and tugs him, _hard, _back down until their mouths collide; her mouth slides wetly against his, and she prods against his lips until he releases a sigh and allows her entry. Gwaine shifts them until she's on top and she grinds against him, causing him to cry out sharply in surprise. He can feel her grinning against his flesh before she bites down on his collarbone, causing him to hiss between his teeth.

She doesn't stop. Merlynn removes his tunic and then her blunt fingernails drag down his chest, catching his nipples before traveling further, her mouth following. Soft kisses are pressed against his abdomen and he sighs again, head resting back on Arthur's pillows. They are wicked, indeed, for doing this in the king's bed. But it caused more excitement, more adrenaline for the both of them and he can't stop now. Not if she wanted him to fuck her in the corridor.

Merlynn straddles his thighs and bites her lip again, hands light flutters against his hip and the patch of hair that lead down into his breeches. Her fingers tug at the cloth of his breeches and they are forced down, freeing his cock from it's confinements. Gwaine arches his head back as the cool air causes friction against the heat of his hardened flesh. It's too hot, he's so hot and it feels like he can no longer handle it.

A cool hand wrapped tight around him, before suddenly he is engulfed in something warm and wet and his eyes shoot open. His eyes roll into the back of his head because Merlynn's mouth is on his cock and it feels so good it almost _aches _and he's so close he can barely stand it. The one woman he loved the most is the cause of this sudden weakness - he was usually the dominant during sex, and now he is on the bed, writing and wriggling like a virgin boy all because of a single servant girl. At first, he could tell she had only done this once or twice, since her movements are jerky and clumsy and he can feel her gag a little when she takes him too deep, but she begins to get used to his girth after a while, and his toes curl.

He could feel himself closer to release but, before he could pull her away, she hollows out her cheeks and sucks hard, bringing forth his release. Gwaine cries out her name, the sound begging and full of longing, as she swallows his release. When his cock begins to soften, only then does she sit back up and wipe a hand across her mouth. Merlynn begins to stand from the bed but he pulls her back to kiss her, knowing that she was wary of whether or not he wanted to kiss her after _that. _

But, even though he tasted himself, salty against her sweet, he did not care, only pressed harder against her lips and dipped his tongue into her mouth.

"Did you enjoy that?" she whispers, a smile beginning to form across her face, and color blossoms on her cheeks.

"Oh, yes I did, princess," he grins. Gwaine's hand slides down into her breeches carelessly, bringing it between her legs to feel how wet she was. "Gods, you're so wet."

Merlynn blushes a deep, cherry red and he watches as the color blooms from her ears to her chest. Curiously, he tugs her tunic off and leaves her under-shift, before burying his face between the valley of her breasts. Her fingers knot into his hair and she arches into him. He slowly draws a cloth-covered nipple into his mouth until she digs her fingers into his skin, her breath catches in her throat. Gwaine then forces her to take off her breeches, and he feels how wet she is against his thigh and grinds against her.

"_Oh," _she murmurs, and he feels her warm lips kiss the top of his head.

Arthur had heard noises come from his bedchamber, but he did not expect the scene he would walk in on. Well, they haven't see him yet, too busy grinding and moaning and touching to notice him. His mouth has gone dry; Merlynn, her hair long and tumbling down her back, looks wanton and wild as Gwaine sucks and licks at her breasts. He went to speak, but he can't. Thoughts aren't processing in his head. He can stop them, force them out, send them to the dungeons in fact, but he has an urge to watch them. Already, his own arousal was tenting his breeches and he was wriggling on the spot.

There was a chair right near the bed in the darkness, so he creeps over to it as quietly as he could. He stretches out on the chair and, slowly, reaches a hand down into his breeches. As soon as his hand make contact with his cock, he has to bite back a hiss. He isn't angry that Merlynn was having sex, basically, with Gwaine; in fact, he feels even more turned on. But, his possessiveness is creeping up on him and he wants her on top of him, grinding against _him _like she has done many times before, but seeing her with someone else is somewhat exciting. Especially since she cannot see him - neither of them can.

"Are you here to join us?" he heard her say, and he freezes in his place. Merlynn isn't looking at him, but she was talking to him - he knows this. _How did she know I was here? _he thinks to himself as he remains in his chair.

Then, she shifts on Gwaine's lap and she's staring at him now with those deep blue eyes of hers, but she's smiling. She doesn't look worried that she's angry, instead she's staring at his hand in his breeches and her tongue peeks out to lick her lips.

"Wh - what?" Gwaine gasps, and he glances around the servant to gaze at Arthur. "Uh, Arthur -"

"Sh," she whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth before she stands. Merlynn is only wearing her under-tunic which is long enough to cover her upper thighs, and she looks wild and free as she struts over to him and stands before him, hands on her hips. "Are you here to join us, Arthur?"

"I..." his mouth is dry.

Merlynn is more confident than she has ever been and it causes him to become harder. He wants to reach out and touch her, to taste her, but he waits for her to speak. "If you'd like to join, all you need to do is ask," she says, and leans down to press a fleeting kiss against him. "Would you like to join?"

She doesn't give him a chance to reply as she turns back to Gwaine, straddles him and kisses him heatedly. He can see her pressed tight against him and knows that she wants him to join. Her sweet sounds and gasps are louder (she knows how much he loves the noises she makes) and her movements are teasing over the knight. Gwaine suddenly takes control of her hips and she is now impaled on him; she cries out, the sound sharp and surprised and then her face is buried in his shoulder. He was tired of the teasing, but now he, too, is trembling from the feel of being inside of her. It was as though he was engulfed in a blazing fire that fluttered around him and he doesn't want the feeling to stop.

He wants to thrust, to properly fuck her, but he needs to feel her throb and clench, to feel her moan and dig her fingernails into his arms. Gwaine can feel her uneven breath against his flesh and the way her body shakes on him.

"Arthur, do you want to watch as I fuck her?" he calls to the dark body in the corner. "I think she wants you to watch, _don't you?"_ Slowly, he thrusts upwards, causing her to arch her back and moan. Gwaine tears her under-tunic from her, leaving her nude and bare before him. He nibbles her flesh as he slides into her again, grins against her as she makes a keening noise.

He can hear Arthur hiss from the corner and knows that he is touching himself, watching them - and Gwaine _likes _it. He's never been a voyeur, but there was excitement from someone watching him fuck someone. Gwaine flips her onto her back and he has a tight grip on her hips and he's thrusting, hard and long and fast, into her, listening to her moan and cry and arch against him. She has her fingers tangled in Arthur's sheets and she's writhing beneath him. He can feel her tighten around him, her thighs tremble against his sides.

"Oh, _gods..." _he groans, and licks a long line up her throat.

As she reaches her peak, as does he, slamming once into her, his hands cupping her knees in a tight grasp. Merlynn is clawing at his chest; her nails drag down his chest, creating angry red lines appear across his tanned flesh.

"Enough!" he hears Arthur shout. Gwaine pauses to angle his head, glancing at his king. His glare is wild and dark. "You have had your fun, but it's now my turn. Merlynn is _mine," _the deep possessive note of the word caused Merlynn to shiver beneath him, and for heat to pool between her legs. He could feel her clench around him in anticipation and, while he felt the need to stay inside of her and continue, he knew it was time for himself to become the voyeur.

"Sire," he rumbles, low in his throat. Arthur passes him quickly and cups Merlynn's cheeks, tugging her up to her knees. Gwaine can see the love in her eyes as she stares at their king and the way her lips flutter on the corner of his thumb.

"You're _mine, _understand?" he can hear Arthur growl.

Briefly, she smiles at him - it is sweet and unfazed, though from the tremble in her thighs Gwaine can see she is aroused by it. "Understood," she whispers, before claiming his mouth.

Gwaine feels as though he is interrupting a secret moment between them as they kiss each other. A small murmur escapes Merlynn's lips as she tangles her fingers through Arthur's short hair and his hands wrap possessively around her waist. They are beautiful together, he thinks, as he notices the contrasts between them. She is the perfect image of the moon, with dark hair and milky flesh, while Arthur is the golden sun, all bronze and muscle. Their fingers link together and forced against her waist; she is suddenly shoved back onto the bed and her back is arched as his arms lock under her waist to keep her back arched to his touch.

Merlynn keens as he bites, nips and sucks her breasts and ribcage, hands reaching back to grip the pillow beneath her head. Gwaine can hear Arthur mutter against her flesh every once and a while - he couldn't hear what the king was saying but, with each word, the girl beneath him sighed and moaned, as though she understood what was being said. Arthur slid up her body once to kiss her again, but he paused.

"So, marking her, were you?" his voice is cool and calm, and he turns his head to stare at Gwaine, his cheek against her breast.

"Stop being so jealous, _my lord," _he teases.

"Yes, Arthur," she rolls her eyes at him. "Stop it. I wanted to have some fun, and Gwaine was the one who walked in the door first. Besides, you _know _I've always wanted to try... _this." _Merlynn grins bashfully, almost as if she's embarrassed; it was another odd thing about the servant girl. One moment she was completely confident and seductive, and then she was awkward. It makes him smile.

Arthur groans against the warm curve of her breast, and says, "_Fine." _He then smiles, and kisses the corner of her mouth. "But _first..." _He slides into her with one smooth stroke and she releases a low, long moan and Gwaine feels himself get hard again. "I love you," the king murmurs. "I _love _you so much, so very much, my sweet Merlynn."

Gwaine definitely feels like an intruder now, but he stays, let's them have their moment, and then he joins. Merlynn is spent from her two orgasms, and she is lifted onto Gwaine's lap. She arches against him and curls her hand around the back of his neck as she stares at Arthur; her fingers tangle in his hair, and he's kissing the length of her shoulder.

"She likes it when you run your fingers over her skin," Arthur tells him conversationally. He stares at them, resting back against the pillow and rolling the sleeves of his tunic up to the elbow. "Especially her belly and her thighs." The knight does as he's told, scratching lightly over the tops of her thighs, listening to the way she gasps and moans. "Do you like me watching you _fuck _someone else?"

Merlynn breaths out a, "_yes," _and she smiles breathlessly.

Her body is spread, shameless, across Gwaine's lap. Arthur grins and crawls over to them. "She also likes it when she's touched _here," _he guides Gwaine's hand down to her nub, his grin widening as she whimpers, "_don't you? _She _loves _it when I use my mouth on her. She _loses it." _He glances up at the other man. "Would you like to be her undoing tonight, or shall I, Gwaine?"

"Whichever you would like, sire." But his voice is raspy and his breathing has gone rather heavy; Arthur knows that he wants to be buried between Merlynn's legs, and he smiles at him.

"Ah, but since this is your only time you'll ever get to spend with _Mer_lynn - you may as well..." he trails off and returns to his position at the top of the bed, lying carelessly with his hands behind his head.

Gwaine murmurs in her ear and asks if she wants it, and in response she nods and moans and she's already moving to the pillows next to Arthur. He takes hold of either side of her thighs and she moans in anticipation; he licks his lips, and kisses the insides of her thighs as the scent of her arousal washes over him. He glances up to catch her expression to see her staring at Arthur, his hand on her cheek and the other brushing over her belly, and he can't help but smile at them. Gwaine will always love her, but he does adore the relationship that Merlynn and Arthur have.

He licks a long stroke up her heat and she let's out a low whine, hand reaching down to tangle in his hair. She tastes like honey and mead, and he loves the warmth of her thighs on his cheeks and he can't get enough. He nuzzles her nub, and glances up every so often to see her head thrown back and hand (which isn't clenching Arthur's) digging into the head-post.

"Oh, gods," she pants. "_Oh." _The heat in her belly was a living thing, curling and flaring whenever Gwaine licks her folds or touches her in a part of her that makes her body shiver in response. Merlynn grabs Arthur's head and drags his head down to her level to give him a searing kiss. "Thank you," she whispers to him.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he says in a nonchalant tone, as though she's not naked, as though Gwaine's face isn't buried between her legs. "Remember - this is _one night _only."

"I," she gasps as the knight nips her clit, "_yes, _I know."

Gwaine slid his tongue across her slit and she writhes beneath him. He needs more of her so, gripping her thighs tight, he's quick with his movements as he moves onto his back and drags her on top of him, his mouth returning to her heat. She trembles around him, hand slamming quickly to the post as she felt herself beginning to fall. Her body exploded with pleasure and slight embarrassment from the position (_would she suffocate him?) _but it didn't seem like he was going to let her go. One of his strong hands was holding her thigh, while the other was wrapped tight around her waist.

He was merciless with his tongue, having had the practice to be the _best _at pleasuring women. As she choked on a cry, he grinned against her nub and listened to her desperate gasps for air. His grip spread her thighs further so she was at his complete mercy - she could escape, couldn't move, only writhe and arch above him. Arthur was behind her, then, nibbling at her neck and cupping her breasts, creating more pleasure that was almost unbearable. Arthur could see Gwaine's cock, now angry and standing at attention, and he knew the man needed release so he wrapped his hand around it and stroked, long and firm.

He shouted obscenities into Merlynn's heat from the surprise in response, but he doesn't relent in his ministrations against her. Soon, she peaks, back arching so far that she thinks she's going to break in two, and shaking violently over Gwaine. Quickly after, Gwaine joins her in his own release, from her taste and the sensations of a hand stroking him.

After they are done, Merlynn is lifted from Gwaine and is placed on the bed - Arthur is lying behind her and she's pressed against his chest. Gwaine takes his place beside them and puts his arms behind his head languidly.

"Well, that was fun," he comments with his own wicked grin. "Let's do it again sometimes."

"_No," _Arthur mutters against his lover's hair. "_One time only, _remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let's just hope that you can keep Merlynn from me, eh? She seemed to enjoy me," he winks at the girl, then watches as she rolls her eyes and pokes his side playfully.

"Shut up, Gwaine."

And then, spent and tired, they fall asleep in the scent of sex.

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><p><em>Kay. Don't judge me, yeah? Review :P <em>

_Some people have asked me for a lemon, so... ^ there's your lemon.  
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_x  
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	9. William: Not a Child Anymore

**Prompt by Anne-Lilian (I am sooooo sorry for taking so bloody long with this one, and especially since it's not my best) :/ **

**Summary: Sixteen-year-old William leaves for Ealdor and returns to find that Merlynn isn't a child anymore.  
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**Again, sorry if it's awful :/  
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><p>Will remembered the first time he saw Merlynn. He was seven; he didn't have many friends at that age, since he was still in the after-shock of his father's death. The children in Ealdor weren't the smartest of individuals and they didn't like him much. He also didn't like being involved in the affairs of the other children. But, he could hear small sniffles and a small voice ordering someone to stop whatever they were doing and he headed closer to the noise.<p>

A little girl was being bullied by two boys - he remembered their names, Cord and Mikael - and they were tugging at her hair and her ears and laughing as they pushed her into the dirt. Will, even at his young age, knew that no one should be treated like that and ran back to his home, grabbed his father's shield and rushed back to them.

"Oi! Get away from her," he shouted. The boys were bigger, older and stronger than he was; but he had a shield, which was the best weapon he could possibly have.

"Oh, if it isn't little William. Come to save ya girlfriend, or some'fin'?" the elder blonde boy with the flat nose - Cord - spat, and he smiled evilly.

"Just get away from her. You have no right treating her like that!" They were away from the village, away from their families and his mother; he had no protection unless he screamed, but then he would be called a coward. And he was no coward.

"And what are you gonna do?" Mikael mocked him. "Come to bash me with the shield? You're just a little mouse."

Will clenched his jaw, shot forward and slammed the shield hard into the boy's belly, then upwards into his jaw. He turned to Cord and held it out threateningly, but he was already running back to Ealdor, slowly followed by Mikael (who was staining his tunic with his bloody nose). When they were gone, he turned to the little girl and stepped closer to her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

The girl looked up from the muddy ground and smiled at him with the brightest, widest smile he had ever seen - she looked so happy, it surprised him. She had been tossed in the dirt, called names and god knows what else; she was covered in mud and tears stained her cheeks but she was beaming, and it made him want to smile with her. There was something about her that drew him closer, made him want to talk to her, be around her; it was a presence, an aura. His aunt was close to a seer, and she often babbled about magic and sorcery and auras and things of that nature when he was around.

"Yes, I'm fine," she chirped. Her eyes were so blue and bright against the dark shade of the mud covering her face. "I just got a little roughed up, tis all. I'm Merlynn."

"William, but call me Will," he smiled, and shook her offered hand, his hand swinging violently to her enthusiastic response.

"Hi! My mum will be expecting me, worried sick that woman is most of the time. But want to be friends? I have none," she looked downtrodden at that.

Will nodded. "I don't have friends, either." She glanced up, and smiled again and Will was happier than he had ever been.

He knew then that he loved her. They had been friends from that day onwards, and she remained by his side; as he got to know her, he began to realize that she was one of those people who could joke around or smile even when the worst had happened. But, that was only her first layer - she rarely showed her true emotions, and only sometimes brought it out to him when she was vulnerable enough. She didn't like people to see her weakness, her despair and sorrow; she was too proud to show it.

When Will left for two months when he was sixteen, it had been the worst two months of his life. She promised him that everything would be fine, that they would see each other but she was basically alone in Ealdor - besides him, she didn't speak to many people, maybe a couple (including her mother). When he left, she was lanky and too thin, her features too sharp and ears too large for her face; even looking like that, he thought her beautiful and lovely and the most wonderful person in the world.

He returned two months later under the pretense that she would look the same, odd fourteen year old that she had been when he left. However, he hadn't expected _that. _Merlynn greeted him at their rock, the one they called their own, and perched on top of it with her knees drawn to her chest. As she saw him, she smiled _that _smile and leapt off the rock to embrace him. Will was left... gobsmacked, to say the least. In place of a lanky, gangly girl was someone else - she had grown into those odd features, and she looked like something magical, something extraordinary.

Her ears were still too big for her face, her smile too wide, but she was beginning to fill out in the slightest (he knew, because before he could see the ridges of her spine through her tunic and her ribcage, and feel it when she hugged him) and her eyes were brighter. Her hair was dark and curly and luscious and longer - to him, she was the most beautiful girl in the whole of Albion and no princess nor queen could measure up to it.

"Merlynn, I've missed you," he breathed into her sweet-smelling hair (he had no clue how she was able to smell so lovely) as he drew her closer. He had changed too; he grew some muscle working as an assistant blacksmith for his uncle, and he had become physically stronger from it and all the weapons he had to practice with.

"I missed you, too," she mumbled into his neck.

While he was gone, he had thought about their relationship. He loved her, of course, but to him she was still a child. Well, she _had _been a child. From the moment he met her, he knew that she was more developed emotionally and mentally than most other children, and she was, if he were to admit, more intelligent than him, stronger, more mature... _better, _than him. She wasn't a child anymore - she would always be his best friend, but now she was older and she...

Certainly wasn't a child anymore.

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><p><strong>Please REVIEW! :D And if you're having any plot bunnies and if you have any prompts or ideas for me, send them in :D I'd love to hear them! <strong>

**xx lots and lots of love.  
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**(Oh, and now I'm up to Chapter 9 on editing The Golden Effect so please, please pleaseee read it and tell me what you think because it looks so much better than the filth that it was)  
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	10. Season 5: The New Knight

**It's been a while since i've uploaded anything on this story, so I decided to write a little one-shot. Nothing much happens, it's just a small little something. A bit of Merdred, a little one-sided!Merwaine, you know how it is. **

**Idk I just sort of let my fingers do the talking there wasn't much to do yeah akdlkfdlbkhln idk guys. It's set in season 5, just after Mordred becomes a knight - it's set as though Merlynn is a servant and stuff. **

**Hope you like it. (sorry i've been on tumblr for too long and i've had about 2 hours sleep so yeah i'm not doing so gr9). **

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><p>Merlynn was a nondescript girl. It was the way it had always been, and always will be.<p>

Her magic didn't count since she, for the most part, had to hide it from those she called her companions, and so they did not seem to consider her anything special. She was simply their best friend; simple Merlynn, clumsy Merlynn, stupid, yet unbelievably wise Merlynn. Many a name, but the only one that seemed to have any significance was her Druid name - Emrys. The name that their people called her, the label her destiny gave her.

The destiny. Merlynn had been merely a girl when a dragon told her that she had a destiny. She once thought that it wasn't too bad, since each person born had a destiny, each individual and concerning the person themselves. But hers? It concerned each and every citizen of Camelot, especially the prince - no, king, she corrected herself. Arthur Pendragon, her friend - some would say best, but he would slap them about the head if they did - and king. "The Once and Future King," the dragon, Kilgharrah, had once said.

She was, apparently, supposed to guide him to the path as the 'Once and Future King', the ruler who would change the course of Albion and bring peace to the land. The notion of it all was ridiculous; it had been when she was told it first, and it was still ridiculous nine years later.

She was a woman now. Stronger, more powerful, determined and cold. Merlynn killed a thousand times, and would kill a thousand more all for the safety of her friends. She no longer felt much remorse, only pity or sadness, whether for the act itself or the person she was inflicting fatal pain on.

She rarely slept - if she did, it was for an hour. For, when she slept, she dreamt. Dreamt of death, of fire and red gushing from the darkness and consuming her. She still felt pain, though she tried to ignore it - her pain was going to kill her, she thought.

Arthur was going to die, and it was to be at the hands of a boy she let live almost a decade ago.

"Merlynn," Gaius' voice was soft, as usual, and his hand settled down atop her bony shoulder.

She was alerted from her thoughts, which she was grateful for. Thinking lead to dangerous thoughts, of tears and wails of despair. Her knowledge of the future - thanks to the Dochru - sabotaged her mind, cursed her every thought and memory she possessed. "Yes, Gaius?" she raised a brow and gave him a smile, tight and false.

If he noticed, he didn't mention it. "You haven't touched your supper," he pointed out. "What's the matter?"

Everything. "Nothing, I'm fine," she assured, biting into the bland chicken to further her point.

"Is this about Mordred?"

Then, her blood ran cold. The mere mention of the boy made her tense and tremble and for fear and anger to course through her veins. She hated the boy, hated the fact that Arthur seemed so fond of him. "N - no," she said unconvincingly. Merlynn looked down, and saw she had a dangerously tight grip on her fork, thumb pressed over the point so hard that it had bent beneath the pressure.

"Merlynn," he sighed. "The boy doesn't appear to be dangerous."

"The key word in that sentence is 'appear'," she argued. "Kilgharrah told me that the boy was dangerous, that he would be the one to kill Arthur. Why would I not believe him?"

"That dragon doesn't know everything," he retorted vehemently.

Merlynn sneered, "Gaius, I know you'd like to believe it, but he's not a good person. He's been... pretending."

"Whatever you say, Merlynn."

She saw him the next day, and she almost cursed upon her terrible luck.

He was all but a few years younger than her, but he was taller, broader - obviously since he was a male - but it irritated her that he could try and intimidate Merlynn with his size. It didn't work, of course, since it was only his future that worried her, but it bugged her nonetheless to watch as he glanced down at her with those impossibly blue eyes she had once loved as a child herself.

She hated that she loved his eyes.

Like a curse, they entranced her, as they always had. Merlynn clenched her jaw and braced herself for the anger that she would, inevitably, feel once he and Arthur began to interact. As usual, she thought, as her king clapped the new knight over the shoulder.

"Merlynn," his voice shouted across the field, and she refrained from rolling her eyes as she glanced up to stare at the king.

"Yes, my lord?" she replied mockingly, a smug smile on her face as he gave in to temptation and rolled his own.

"Get over here and give me my sword!" His words were said not unkindly and, as she raced over, he gave her a little smile and a playful rub of her head. She slapped his hand away and scowled playfully, but left to join the other knights on the field.

They were her best friends - brothers. Though she cared for each of the knights, there was the special group: 'Knights of the Round Table' or, at least, the original. Her minor - major, she corrected herself - feelings for Gwaine made her opinion of him a bit biased, but she could hardly care about that.

"You look tired, Merlynn," Percival said as she reached them, and slung a tree-sized arm over her shoulders.

"I am," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "But I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, Percy."

Gwaine tugged her from his grip and into hers, those brown eyes of his so warm and kind. They weren't as lovely as Mordred's, but they had their own, unique beauty, and she could have stared into them for days. "You need to get more sleep, princess," he told her with a hard kiss to the side of her head. "I'll come and make sure that you do each night if I have to," he added, winking.

She felt eyes on her, then, burning into her forehead as she laughed and smiled with the knights. It was Mordred, jaw tight and lips pursed, his eyes flared. "He can't stop looking at you, you know?" Leon said teasingly, nudging her hip. "I think he likes you."

Merlynn pulled herself out of Gwaine's grip and pushed the shaggy-haired knight right back, snorting. "That's ridiculous!" All he wants to do is kill your king, she thought vehemently, but she bit the words back.

Elyan smirked. "He blushes so red when we mention you. He has a bit of a crush."

"I hate you all," she snarled, hanging her head. "That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard of."

"Why?" he asked. "You're only a couple years older, beautiful, smart..."

Mortal enemies. Wants to kill each other. Lovely. "Mm, oh yes. Perfect match," she retorted sarcastically.

"We should set you two up, eh?" Gwaine suggested, snagging her around the waist and pulling her close. She smiled, then, enjoying the feeling of him wrapped around her. "Gwaine, no...! I don't like him, at all," she protested.

"He's a nice lad, loyal and skilled with a sword," he listed.

"I don't care!" she bit out, struggling against him.

_Why do you hate me so much, Emrys_? his voice echoed in her head, and she swallowed a growl, locking eyes with him again.

_Leave me alone, Mordred_, she hissed back.

_I can't do that._

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><p><strong>Tell me what you thought :)<strong>


	11. Merdred: 5 Times

Summary: five times Mordred kissed Merlynn.

Pairing: Merdred (some Merthur).

This is AU; if, you know, Mordred acted on his feelings.

This was suggested by a friend because yeah, there are a lot of fanfics like "5 times yadayaydyayday". I needed a distraction from school and from Forging Steel, so I wrote this. Hope you enjoy it.

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><p>The first time Mordred kisses Merlynn, she throws him into a tree.<p>

She's gasping and panting and wiping at her eyes furiously, cursing him to high heavens while he struggles like a worm held down by blade. He wonders if she felt the slow burn of it, of his tongue swiping against her mouth or the pressure of his lips, because he can and he wishes he could lick at his mouth to swallow the taste of her.

"How could you, Mordred?" she hisses, trembling fingers running tracks in her messy hair and he wishes he could've used his own hands to tangle through it. "I'm married - oh god, Arthur. We mustn't tell him, alright? We musn't."

Merlynn goes to him as his body is released and her hands cup his cheeks, her eyes wide and desperate and god, he tried not to fall into them like they were the ocean and he was a broken ship. He's sad, because he wants to kiss her again, again and again until they're tangled in sheets and each other, but she's scared and he cares more about her than himself.

So he nods, a firm, little thing. His breath, a small almost-sigh, leaves him. "Okay."

**oo**

The second time it was an accident.

Mordred swears on it.

There's a party, some celebration of a big hunt. "It's tradition," Elyan says when Mordred asks, his mouth already slack with drink and a peach colour paints his dark cheeks.

Everyone is drinking. Even Mordred, who's a little younger than the other men, is given big goblets of wine - he guesses they've given him a barrel after the first hour - and there's music and laughter and energy in the air. He's never been happier.

He looks to the front, where the king and queen always sit during feasts, and they're laughing the loudest, noses bumping against the other. He goes green with envy and he feels something dark swirl in him; he's never been a jealous person, because he was better than that and he would much rather be happy than jealous, he thinks. But as he watches them he wishes he could push Arthur away and take her, there on the table, for all of them to see.

To claim her.

So it's not really an accident when he catches her alone, stumbling back on weak legs to her bedchambers. It's dangerous, he thinks, for a queen to be alone in a hallway in such a way, drunk and vulnerable. But she isn't all vulnerable, because she's Emrys and she's strong (much stronger than he) and she can protect herself.

The way she stumbles worries him, and so he catches her arm and lets her lean against a pillar to catch some of the cool air and sober up a bit. Then she grins at him, a dopey thing, teeth and all, and she trips forward - her arms, covered by her thick gown, sling around his neck and bring him close. He swears he can feel her hot breath on his throat, nose running along his pulse point, and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from forcing his mouth on her.

She's playful as a drunk, dancing and singing (horribly) and making (horrible) jokes and touching him (in a most horribly delicious way). He's drunk too, though, not drunk enough to forget what she's doing to him but drunk enough that he doesn't care that she's married, or in love with someone else - she's here, up tight against him, and he's horny and he wants her.

So he kisses her, and she makes a noise, a sweet little note of surprise. She tastes like wine and summer, and as he licks inside her mouth she groans and pulls him a little closer. Her mouth moves against his in a way that tells him she's done this many times; he's inexperienced in comparison to her. He's had more partners (it's cold and lonely being a slave trader), but she's been with Arthur for years, and then Will before that. So when he presses her into the piller, she digs into his throat with her nails just a little to make his eyes roll and tingles to go straight to his dick.

Merlynn doesn't say a word when she's pushed herself away, but her mouth is so swollen and her face is tinged red, and he can see pleasure in her near-black eyes. He laughs as she walks away.

**oo**

Funnily enough, Mordred isn't the one to initiate the third kiss.

It's been three weeks since the feast and he can't stop thinking about her mouth, her hands, her hair, her taste and smell - just Merlynn. She's avoiding him too, which makes it worse because he begins to ache at not seeing her, or talking to her, or just being around her. He believes that, in the whole deep mess of magic and fate, they're connected and his magic just wants like a physical being, to be with her.

Mordred thinks she misses him too.

He's patrolling, taking double shifts because Camelot can be a bore and it's pretty at night. Gwaine and Percival are both drinking (as usual) and the rest are just doing their duty - "it's just what knights do," said Arthur once. Mordred can't remember when.

He turns, and he almost yelps as something grabs his arm and pulls him into a dark alley. But then there's a mouth on his and his magic flares to life. Mordred tastes her again (this time, she's strawberry) and knows who it is; he pulls her close and hitches her up so she's fully pressed against him. Her dress isn't confusing, but thin this time so when he wraps her legs around his hip he's able to nestle himself against her. As he grinds, she lets out a choked, desperate noise - her mouth tears from his and moves to his neck and he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder.

Merlynn is moving back in earnest, fingers digging in his shoulders and gasping against his skin. Mordred doesn't want to leave her mouth so he uses his nose to move her head, then he's kissing her again and he feels like he could explode just because of her mouth.

He can feel her tense her thighs and tries to push a little harder with his dick, because he knows that if he makes her come then he's won. She wants him, and she'll come back for more. But she pushes at his shoulder as a whine leaves her, falling to her feet.

Almost, he thinks, as she runs off.

**oo**

She's always running off, but she can't escape from magic.

They're at the round table - he's on one side, and she's on the other, right next to Arthur.

They share a glance, but nothing else. She's blocked her thoughts from him, though her mind is a free landscape and he grins to himself. He imagines kissing her, from mouth to collarbone, open mouthed and licking as he goes; he watches as she starts a little, feeling at her throat.

Stop, she's thinking already.

He kisses her in her mind, again, and she bites her lip. Mordred wonders if it'll swell as if he's using a real mouth. His fingers travel down her torso, unlacing her bodice and revealing her breasts to him; he bites a nipple, and she lurches a little, her fingers trembling as she grips onto the corner of the table.

Arthur gives her a concerned look, but she only smiles in reassurance and looks at her lap.

In a flash she's undressed completely, and the image in his mind is flushed and pale and beautiful, with sharp curves and swollen breasts. But he goes to her cunt, pleasuring her in long, deep swipes up and around and in. Merlynn's eyes roll back, but she's holding herself well (he gives her credit for it).

But it's not enough. So he goes to her nub, where she's swollen and aching the most, and sucks on it while she squirms in her seat and bites back a moan.

He wants her to scream.

His mouth licks and sucks and nibbles until she tenses and twitches, her mouth slightly open, eyelids fluttering madly. And then she stares at him, poison and passion and anger in her glare, and he can't help but grin and lick his lips as if he was tasting her again.

Merlynn jolts forward a little as he swipes his tongues (a part of him wishes he were doing it in front of the knights, his queen spread-legged on the round table with her dress bunched up at her waist) and shutters, but does not make a noise.

He feels a hand touch his trousers, slip inside and grasp at him. She uses tricks he hadn't ever felt before, not by any whore; it takes all his willpower not to growl or react. They end up coming together, and Mordred is embarrassed because he sees a stain on his trousers and it'll be difficult to hide. When the meeting is over, they're gasping and slightly damp at the brow, but composed.

_Meet me in the empty bedchamber at the end of the hall, _she thinks at him, and all he does is nod.

The fourth time she kisses him, in the dark of the dusty chamber, she's aggressive and vicious, tugging at his hair and biting at his lip. And he returns it, because she's played at him for too long, and he's just as frustrated as she is.

They part too soon, but she's lax and smiling dizzily, hair a mess and lips bright red and swollen. He guesses he's the same, and when they leave he wonders what a complete scandal they looked (though, he wishes that some maid could walk past, just so he would be able to wink and grin).

She doesn't speak to him as they part ways.

**oo**

The last time, she's crying. He's trying not to join her, but there's a lump in his throat and his hands are shaking as he brushes her hair away. Her face is blotched red, eyes swollen, and he draws her close and puts her head to his chest.

"We can't do this anymore," she whispers, but she's gripping onto his tunic and refusing to let go. "We just can't."

He knows this, too. She may care about him - the thought makes his heart leap - but she loves Arthur more, and it will always be like that. It makes him furious and broken all at the same time. He understands, though, and so he kisses her forehead and hopes she'll let him see her.

"I know," he replies.

Their mouths fuse together once again, and it's painful and desperate, fingers clutching against whatever they could reach. She clings on to him, drawing him close, and he tastes salt on his tongue.

They don't kiss again, although sometimes he'll feel a brush against his mouth like a wisp of wind, or a ghost of a hand touch at his hair. He thinks it's Merlynn, but she never gives anything away. She's the same as she was, smiling and laughing, closer to Arthur than ever.

Mordred wonders how she could be such a fantastic liar.

He hopes that, someday, he'll be able to do the same.


End file.
